Names
by Green Bunny
Summary: Yakumo had many names for himself in his mind, but never quite so many or varied as this particular night. One-Shot of the night before the big battle.


**Oh Lordy, here I go again… I promise, this is a one-shot. I swear. For whatever reason I remembered a show I watched right at the beginning of my pre-teen love affair with anime. I went back and re-read the manga from start to finish in about a week (for the record, that's around 9,000 pages of manga, no joke) and this little number came up because of that. This takes place in the manga close to the end of the series. For all of 3x3 Eyes' over-the-top violence and nudity it certainly was lacking when it came to this particular scene… so… I elaborated.**

**Um. That being said, I'm a girl writing from a male perspective AND trying to make a believable virgin experience. I hope I get things right… If not, PM me. Or Review. I don't bite. **

**Some of the quotes are pulled directly from the manga but a lot are fudged a little bit to make the story flow a little better. The scanlation I used didn't have the best grammar I'd ever seen so, bear that in mind.**

**This is a self-prompt over the many titles Yakumo Fuji has given himself in his own mind.**

**0**

Yakumo Fuji: Super Boyfriend.

He decided that was definitely his name during his date with Pai. He hadn't known it would turn into a date, mind you. Not, right away. He'd only had a sneaking suspicion it was turning into one when they'd started enjoying themselves while cleaning Mama's house. They laughed as they worked, broke a few things on accident—Mama wouldn't be happy about that—and made dinner.

That was when he'd given himself the new title of Super Boyfriend. He said it out loud to himself as he grilled some beef on a portable, gas powered mini grill he'd brought with him.

"Supah—what, Yakumo?" Pai peered over his shoulder and he jumped.

"Ah-uh…" A blush burned his cheeks. The heat of the open flames covered it well, though. "Ah… it's a food I'm making… y-yeah." He swallowed.

Yakumo Fuji: King of Foot-in-Mouth Outbursts.

Pai blinked at him, tilted her head to the side, and frowned. Yakumo began to sweat. He had said the phrase in English, one of the languages he was certain she didn't know…or did she? A smile spread across her face and she gave him a breath stopping hug.

"Sounds yummy, Yakumo!"

He released a breath he hadn't know he had been holding. "Y-yeah, well, I had to improvise a little, what with there being no power in here and all… I hope it'll turn out okay."

"Of course it will, Yakumo made it!" Pai bobbed her head up and down in an emphatic nod, her chestnut locks bounced around her face as she did so.

Yakumo Fuji: Escape Artist. He'd managed to get out of that one!

His luck began to turn sometime after dinner. Pai wanted to talk about Kaiyanwang. He knew she had been acting strange most of the day; too thoughtful and quiet. Pensive, even. As she snuggled up against his side his brain turned to mush. She was so warm with her arms curled around one of his and her chest tucked against his side.

"If Pai becomes human… can Pai stay here forever?" Her eyes flitted to the floor, obscured by long, thick lashes.

He started. Didn't she already know she was welcome in his home? Hadn't he told her before? He affirmed again that, yes, she would always have a home there. What was really bothering her?

"You had something you wanted to tell me…?" He prompted, gently.

Her eyes wandered to the seams of his jeans, her lips pursed, then parted. "I figured out a way to defeat Kaiyanwang."

He went rigid. His chest always felt so cold at the mention of that name. Had she really figured something out? Had she divined some information when he, Sanjiyan, and all of his friends couldn't?

"I-Is that really true?"

She was disconcertingly quiet. Her eyes closed. He was certain she had fallen asleep. It wasn't unusual for her to drop off right after she had gobbled down a huge meal, so he wasn't too terribly surprised when she went slack against him. He should have known something was wrong when Sanjiyan pulled away from him a second later.

Yakumo Fuji: Naïve Nitwit.

Then she was talking to him about love. No, she wanted to _make love_ to him! His once racing mind instantly slammed to a halt. Sanjiyan wanted to… do… do _that_? With _him_? His face burned hot. It was unthinkable! He was still coming to terms with the fact that Pai's alternate personality didn't hate him and even _liked_ him. Now he was supposed to believe she _wanted_ him in bed, too?

But all that flew out the window when she started speaking to him about the humanization ritual. She planned to go through with it after all. She wanted to say goodbye. He was arguing with her about the foolishness of such a plan when she kissed him.

His mind went blank again. He had kissed her only a handful of times in all his years of knowing her, being her shadow, her right hand, her sword, but this one felt different. Yakumo made a half-hearted attempt to extricate himself from her. Heavens her lips were soft! He tried hard to remember why he didn't want this. Her hand was on his chest and he could feel her warmth through the material of his sweatshirt. Yes, he wanted it. He wanted her. His lips twitched slightly, ready to let go. For one night he could allow himself a taste of happiness…

One night.

His lips stilled. Sanjiyan intended this night to be her one and only night with him. Their _last_ night together. He gurgled an incomprehensible protest. He didn't want it to be their last night. It couldn't be their last night.

The small noise seemed to rouse her. She pulled away, her cheeks rosy. Some of the air returned to him as Sanjiyan moved back from him and stood. Her three eyes watched him, her lips upturned in a rare, warm smile that was both Pai and Sanjiyan all at once.

Then it was dark. The candles they had lit in the living room had all gone out. In the darkness he could hear her clothes fell to the floor but it didn't really kick in that she was nude until his eyes adjusted to the night. She stood proud above him her skin was flawless porcelain, her hair still bound up in her ponytail. As she spoke the sweetest, flowery words to him all the blood in his traitorous body rushed north and south at once. It collected in his face and scalded his cheeks red-hot while the other half of his blood built a nearly painful pressure below the belt.

"I'll leave you with Pai. But, once I go through the humanization ritual I might never see you again. This will be my first and last time."

Oh God, she was serious! Yet, her words rang hollow. He sensed if he gave in to the desire that hummed through his veins that he might lose her forever. Yakumo couldn't bear loneliness again. He wanted her, but he wanted her to stay more.

Yakumo Fuji: Utter Coward.

Panic set in. He gathered up his Japanese-bred embarrassment to turn the tide against his own longing. Yakumo whirled around to face the wall, dishes tumbled as his elbows rushed by. If he couldn't see her he couldn't be tempted. He knew if he had one more look at her, tasted her lips one more time he'd give in. His palms pressed flat against the cool drywall.

"If we'll never see each other again, then why go through the ritual?" He ground out. "Let me kill Kaiyanwang."

Yakumo could hear the desperation, the plea, in his own voice. He leaned his arm against the wall and pressed his forehead against it. In his heart, he knew he had little to no chance of beating him. But he didn't care. He would sacrifice himself a thousand times, endure the torturous experience of bones and flesh broken and re-knit back together, if it meant that his two loves would be safe and sound.

"I like Pai, but I like you too!" He bellowed to the wall. "I can't imagine losing either of you!"

Now the words wouldn't stop coming, and he braced himself with both arms against the wall as they tumbled out. "Yes, I want you… but I can't do this! I couldn't just keep Pai and lose you. I could never choose between the two of you!"

The silence that followed was deafening. Soft warmth enveloped him. He froze as his eyes caught the sight of slender, pale arms as they enclosed around his middle. From the way her breasts pressed against his back he knew she was still naked and his body wanted it. If he moved, if he breathed, he would do something he would regret.

Yakumo Fuji: Hormonal Mess.

"Yakumo. Thank you."

He started. Her head was on his shoulder, dampness seeped into fabric on his left side. Tears. His stomach twisted. He had made her cry. He hated making anyone cry. Everything withered inside him. The Wu constantly sought to make people happy so that, perhaps, they might stay near him. This was the exact opposite of making anyone happy.

"I, too, want to continue being with you. Even in such a terrible time, all I want to do is be with you." Sanjiyan continued, "But you know you cannot defeat Kaiyanwang. I'm sure you realized this when you fought him."

A coldness settled in his chest. Sanjiyan was so certain. Was Pai certain as well? No, she said she knew how to defeat him. Unless, this was her big plan, to let Sanjiyan sacrifice herself in the humanization ritual? Slowly, she rose to her feet, pulling him with her considerable strength. Her head remained fixed on his back. His arms hung limp at his sides.

"Neither you, nor Pai, can defeat him. Only I can."

Everything inside him told him Sanjiyan was wrong. If he could just look at her, "What are you going to do?" He said, turning slowly, "Please if you would just let me-"

"Stop! Don't look at me!" She bellowed, her arms squeezed him tighter to hold him in place. When he stilled she went on, her voice quiet, wavering. "I do not want you to see the pathetic look on my face."

Yakumo waited patiently, when Sanjiyan spoke next her voice was not much stronger. "Of course I'm afraid of the humanization ritual. I do not know what will happen to me." He could hear her swallow loudly behind him. When her voice returned it was barely a whisper in his ear. "I am so scared. That's why I want you tonight."

The Wu exhaled slowly in the silence that followed. His blood had cooled significantly. She didn't want him because she loved him. She wanted to feel something because she was scared. He sighed and bent over to tug his shirt over his head. He heard her breath hitch in anticipation.

"We shouldn't do this." He added gently, pushing the sweatshirt into her hands. "This isn't like you at all. I can't let you participate in the ritual."

He turned and made a bee-line for his room, scooping up a candle on the way to guide him. He heard his name called and turned back. "Don't get me wrong. I'm grateful to hear that you need me but, the Sanjiyan I know is noble and arrogant. She isn't the type of person who needs to lean on anyone."

He padded further down the hall and stopped at his door, his hand on the doorknob. "I'm sorry. I can't give you what you want this time."

As the door slid shut behind him he pressed his palms to his head. "I've hurt her. I've really screwed up this time." He paced around his bed. "Sanjiyan has done so much for me and I… Ah, I'm such a schmuck!"

He pulled out a plaid jacket from his backpack and threw it on. With a groan he flopped onto the bed. He rolled over to stare at the ceiling, hands tucked behind his head. It had never been in his nature to say no to anyone. Yakumo lived to please. It was how he staved off his own loneliness. It took every bit of willpower he had in him not to rush back into the next room and beg her forgiveness. But, asking forgiveness meant agreeing to her demands and the price, he resolved, was much too high.

Or was it? Did he really have any more options? Had he just walked out on a chance to make love for a hunch that there was a better answer? Was there a better answer than the one provided by a three hundred year old demigod? His stomach flipped and he gripped his hair tightly as panic set in. Oh God, he really was an idiot wasn't he?!

Yakumo Fuji: Eternal Virgin.

The hushed sound of the door moving caught his attention. Startled, he rolled up to a sitting position. Speak of the devil. Sanjiyan edged her way in, her eyes cast to the floor. She wore his sweatshirt, and he had to admit, it looked good on her.

"I'm sorry for earlier. Forgive me."

Sorry? Sorry for what? He had been the one to turn her down. He was the one who should be apologizing. Confused, he began to say as much to her. "T-the fault is all mine, I—"

"I am neither noble, nor arrogant." Sanjiyan interrupted. "And neither am I strong. I have always been weak, right from the beginning."

"Sa-Sanjiyan…" He began, ready argue differently.

"That is why I want to apologize." She cut him off again. "I've been lying to you until now about my past…"

That was something he hadn't expected to hear. As she twisted her hands into fists she told her story. How she remembered everything about the moments that led up to Kaiyanwang being sealed and the destruction of her race. With heart-wrenching clarity she recounted how, despite the horrors committed, despite the fact that he could have died and his reign of terror would never have been visited upon Japan, despite all that, she loved the soul of Shiva too much to let him simply die. Shiva had been ready to sacrifice himself to kill Kaiyanwang for good, holding him there until he could finally expire. Instead, Sanjiyan had sealed him away before he could self-destruct. She insisted that she was the cause of Japan's devastation, the enslavement of his friends and family in those green cocoons, all of it.

As the memories overwhelmed her she fell to the floor and buried her face in his chest. Yakumo saw for the first time, not the powerful and proud warrior-goddess Sanjiyan but the young, scared child she hid beneath her tough façade. Forced to live alone in the world of dead gods she withdrew into her own psyche and created the personality of Pai to save her own sanity. Pai was tasked with finding a way to become human; to bear the lonely burden she could not.

"So you see, I am neither noble, nor arrogant." She whimpered into his chest. "I am a wretched, cowardly thing."

Her fingers gripped his shirt as she added. "I forced Pai to endure my loneliness. The loneliness I couldn't bear on my own… and she suspected nothing!"

He was stunned to learn she had been punishing herself for so many years. She was young. She was lonely. What rational choices, faced with the immeasurable grief of watching her entire race destroyed before her eyes, could a young person make in her situation? Panic forced her hand. Fate was simply a cruel mistress to take her mistake so far.

He pulled her into his arms in a tight hug. "Sanjiyan, you've had such a terrible time." He gave her shoulders a squeeze as she gave a surprised squeak. "You've blamed yourself all this time… all these years."

Sanjiyan, predictably, argued. "Idiot, I—"

He cut her off, "But please, don't blame yourself. I'm so grateful to you."

Just before he pressed his lips to hers he added, "Because of you, I was able to meet you both."

He could feel Sanjiyan's surprise in the way she tensed when he kissed her. Quickly, her body sagged against him and she returned his kiss. It quickly grew heated, and his hands moved unbidden to cup her face. She pressed forward and he lost his balance, flopping backwards on to the bed.

Sanjiyan was upon him in an instant. They scrabbled together, backwards until they were in the middle of the bed, all the while desperately trying to keep their lips together as much as possible. Cool air kissed his chest and he was distantly aware that she had undone his shirt.

As his blood hummed in his veins and Sanjiyan perched on his lap, his body decided that it was much too warm to keep the shirt on. He struggled to put both his elbows underneath him as her delicate fingers tugged on his pants. He noted that the ancient Seima was no match for the modern complexities of blue jean buttons. Yakumo seized the opportunity to shrug out of his shirt and wriggle it free from behind his back. A carefully balanced toss sent it fluttering to the floor.

"Yakumo. These modern pants are resisting me." Sanjiyan grumbled as she tugged at the offending waistline of his pants. "How do you function in these things?"

His face flushed as he reached down between them and released the button and pulled down his fly, more than a little concerned that she might get too enthusiastic with that particular device. Her hands were inside his pants a heartbeat later and his mind went white when she grasped him without preamble.

Though she was a virgin herself, she had no fear or shame of her body as so many inexperienced girls would. She had expressed once that sexual shame was not a facet of her culture, but he hadn't really known what that meant until this night. Now, as she sat above him, a proud smirk on her lips as she watched him moan, he understood.

Her hand moved on him and he went rigid beneath her and suddenly he knew that self-service wasn't nearly as pleasurable as getting his own. His own hands clamped down on her thighs as he instinctively thrust up against her hand. In a few strokes he might let go.

Yakumo didn't want that. He wanted her. If she kept touching him like that he wouldn't last long enough for that. Using what few brain cells he had one of his hand shifted over her thigh and slipped beneath the hem of his borrowed sweatshirt. It didn't take long for him to find her warm center. Sanjiyan gave a short gasp, her hands stalled immediately and her grip loosened.

With more blood and brain to think with Yakumo seized the opportunity to pull on her shirt with one hand and explore her with the other. After a moment of squirming Sanjiyan, without moving her other hand, helped him pull her shirt off with the other. They both kept moving their hands in fits and starts, each time a distraction (like clothing) came up they would stall. While Yakumo welcomed a chance to engage his mind again, Sanjiyan would huff and rock expectantly against his fingers.

"Enough." She ordered and rolled off of him. She crouched on the bed next to him and pointed to his jeans. "Pants. Off. Now."

A grin spread across his lips as he pushed his heels against the mattress, lifted his hips, and tugged down on his pants. "Your wish is my command."

Sanjiyan's smile was smug in return. Apparently, it was exactly what she wanted to hear, because he had barely enough time to kick off his jeans and boxers before she was straddling him again. She grasped him and guided him to her.

"Be ready, my Wu."

He meant to say "I am" but what came out was a low, guttural grunt instead. She lowered herself down gingerly. She was almost unbearably tight, and when she finally came to a rest he had to brace his hands against her hips to keep her still for a few seconds.

"S-stop…" He gasped. "I won't… mnuhh… I'll…"

Sanjiyan frowned and stilled. "Can you not maintain against my greatness?"

What? He was a virgin! How was he expected to hold out on his first time? He might be a Wu but he wasn't a damn machine! The three-eyed girl rocked her hips impatiently. He bobbed his head in an emphatic yes to get her to stop. Male pride be damned.

Once again, he had said the magic words and she stopped moving, blessedly.

For all of one minute.

Her hips rolled forward and he instinctively surged up to meet her with a surprised gasp. Tension already built in his abdomen tightened further with each thrust of her hips. Yakumo tried hard to hold back, to make her first time last a little longer, but the feeling coiling in his belly finally reached its peak. He snapped his head back, his fingers curled into her thighs.

The energy ebbed away from him with each jerk of his hips. His eyes cracked open to observe his love. Sanjiyan leaned forward above him, her chest heaving with exertion. The smile that split her lips was disarmingly gentle as she stroked his hair away from his face.

He could feel her tracing the mark of the void on his forehead. Sleep was tugging him into darkness, yet he managed to touch her chest where his soul beat in time with her heart. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she touched the spot and nodded. She understood. Good.

He vaguely suspected that something was wrong, but he was so tired it was hard to articulate that concern. As sleep took him he had one more title for himself. Yakumo Fuji: Forever in Love… Probably Screwed.

He was right.


End file.
